Ryan Coogler's latest work may have breathed new life into the concept of African American undead, but the roots of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most memorable early examples was the seminal 1972 movie Blacula. In that motion picture, the actor's role is bitten by Dracula and cursed with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, Marshall transformed the role into something regal, giving his character an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy seemed to take inspiration from Marshall, enriching his own character's mythology in the director's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a heir of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn demonstrates that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking all at once, securing its place in the hall of fame by balancing all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Released three decades back on October 27th, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you want a dash of humor with your frights this Halloween.
An Urban Vampire Story
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), Maximillian is drawn to the Big Apple. But rather than traveling from a fictional kingdom to Queens, he arrives from the Bermuda Triangle into Brooklyn, aiming to locate and ensure the survival of his vampire lineage with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose crew has been inexplicably killed, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by ship inspector Silas Green (John Witherspoon) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, run into an alley, and morph into a human — like the iconic routine from the longer Black or White video. Funky Blaxploitation-style music starts, establishing the mood for a film that handily balances scares and laughs.
Directorial Ambitions
Recently after his last installment in the iconic horror series, Craven was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to defy assumptions by diving into a straight horror based on Dracula lore. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But when the film hits its stride, it opens up to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
Angela Bassett, as the object of Maximillian’s affection, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised performers, she delivers a powerful acting with Payne, a well-known actor from the era. Meanwhile, the lead spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a hilarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style elevates the humor and fear, even when utilized by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars appear together, the movie hits its stride — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. Max’s plan is to take away everything Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He murders her housemate, drives a wedge between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, including metamorphoses and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with seduction, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The film ends with a stinger hinting at a possible follow-up, one that could have happened had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it found new life as a beloved classic, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its clever mix of horror and comedy. The film flashes moments of brilliance that could have been more prominent had everyone involved been aligned on a cohesive approach, rather than delivering the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Nevertheless, Vampire in Brooklyn has rightfully earned its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but impactful entry characterized by its bold style and memorable acting.
